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May 13, 2009

Charles Wolk

At precisely 6:30pm on May 12th, Mr. Charles Wolk passed away. To his friends he was Chuck - if you just met him he would tell you he was "Charlie on a good day".

He was one of the greatest men I have ever had the privilege to know. I will always refer to him as my cousin, except for the fact that he's not actually related to me. He's been with my third cousin Delphine for more than 40 years. Which brings me to the first story - as I heard it, he asked her to marry him many many years ago. She declined his request - at that time, he told her that if she ever wanted to get married, she would have to ask him.

One thing Chuck was always good for was a great story. I'm going to share a few of my fondest memories of Chuck, because I know that's what he would want me to do.

One of the earliest memories I have is from a visit to Chicago with my Mom and Sister. At this time Chuck was living on the 68th floor of the John Hancock building. It was probably the coldest winter I have ever experienced - it had to be 50° below wind chill. I remember a few things about this trip - this has to be the first time I ever went to Manny's Deli. Of course, Chuck had been eating there for as long as it's been open. He took us on a tour of his office - he owned a company that made parts for motion picture projectors. All I remember thinking about the office was that the floors were going to collapse at any moment - he had more stuff than anyone I know. He was a salesman.

Chuck would always tell you that he started in Chicago in a basement apartment: "I didn't have a pot to piss in, or a window to throw it out of." (this is one of many Chuckisms that I will list off later).

I decided to move to Chicago to go to Columbia College in September of 1999 - I don't think I would have made that move if it wasn't for Chuck and Del. I knew that living here I would have a safety net - and I sure did. I knew that if anything happened, or if I ever needed help with anything, they would be there - and they were.

When I first moved here, we essentially had a supper club. He would pick up his usual crew of adopted family and take us all out to Wildfire. This group consisted of Lisa (his sons wife who was living in Chicago), Aunt Ruth (who was about 99 years old and sharp as a tack), Mi Jung (a very beautiful Korean woman who was in Chicago going to school), Chuck, Del, and me. He was known by name at Wildfire, in fact, last year - he was so well know - they put up a brass plaque in his honor. He would always say that he'd schedule these dinner toward the end of the month because I would "run out of money" before I "ran out of month".

I've spent every single Yom Kippur, Rosh Hashanah and Passover with Chuck and Del. I would tag along - sometimes reluctantly - to services with them. The holiday I cherished most and the one that will always hold a special place in my heart - one that will never be the same - is Yom Kippur. I'm sure you'r wondering why? Well, Chuck and I had a ritual - it went a little bit like this. We would go to services (which he would undoubtedly sleep though), drive back to the Hancock, Drop off Del and begin our annual journey around Chicago for all of the break the fast fixings. We had three stops to make, The Bagel Shop in Lincolnwood, the Fish Market in Chicago and Costco. Without fail, we would eat at every stop. The bagel shop was a hot bagel, the fish marlet was a half pound of fried shrimp each and Costco was the infamous $1.50 hot dog and pop. Yes, we were bad Jews - the guilt was killing us.

Costco was Mecca for Chuck. He would do anything for a bargain - the highlight of his week was the $1.50 Polish and Coke. He would put so much onion on that Polish, I think he got far more than his $1.50 worth.

I could literally go on telling stories like this all night. The few things I want to drive home about Chuck are his amazing and boundless generosity, his ability to make friends with everyone and his undying love for Chicago - which on many occasions he called the greatest city in the world. He should know, he's been around the world at least a dozen times.

As promised I thought I would list a few phrases which I've come to call "Chuckisms". These are things that he would say - without fail - the first time you met him:

"Hi, I'm Charlie on a good day."

"What do you do? What can you get me wholesale?"

On your way out the door he would say: "Do good work, I need the money."

"In 100 years it isn't going to make a bit of difference."

Answering the phone: "It's your nickle!!" or "Hellooooooooooooo!!"

After you were stuffed with food from dinner at his apartment: "More in Kitchen!" and "It costs the same no matter how much you eat."

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Charles Wolk

At precisely 6:30pm on May 12th, Mr. Charles Wolk passed away. To his friends he was Chuck - if you just met him he would tell you he was "Charlie on a good day".

He was one of the greatest men I have ever had the privilege to know. I will always refer to him as my cousin, except for the fact that he's not actually related to me. He's been with my third cousin Delphine for more than 40 years. Which brings me to the first story - as I heard it, he asked her to marry him many many years ago. She declined his request - at that time, he told her that if she ever wanted to get married, she would have to ask him.

One thing Chuck was always good for was a great story. I'm going to share a few of my fondest memories of Chuck, because I know that's what he would want me to do.

One of the earliest memories I have is from a visit to Chicago with my Mom and Sister. At this time Chuck was living on the 68th floor of the John Hancock building. It was probably the coldest winter I have ever experienced - it had to be 50° below wind chill. I remember a few things about this trip - this has to be the first time I ever went to Manny's Deli. Of course, Chuck had been eating there for as long as it's been open. He took us on a tour of his office - he owned a company that made parts for motion picture projectors. All I remember thinking about the office was that the floors were going to collapse at any moment - he had more stuff than anyone I know. He was a salesman.

Chuck would always tell you that he started in Chicago in a basement apartment: "I didn't have a pot to piss in, or a window to throw it out of." (this is one of many Chuckisms that I will list off later).

I decided to move to Chicago to go to Columbia College in September of 1999 - I don't think I would have made that move if it wasn't for Chuck and Del. I knew that living here I would have a safety net - and I sure did. I knew that if anything happened, or if I ever needed help with anything, they would be there - and they were.

When I first moved here, we essentially had a supper club. He would pick up his usual crew of adopted family and take us all out to Wildfire. This group consisted of Lisa (his sons wife who was living in Chicago), Aunt Ruth (who was about 99 years old and sharp as a tack), Mi Jung (a very beautiful Korean woman who was in Chicago going to school), Chuck, Del, and me. He was known by name at Wildfire, in fact, last year - he was so well know - they put up a brass plaque in his honor. He would always say that he'd schedule these dinner toward the end of the month because I would "run out of money" before I "ran out of month".

I've spent every single Yom Kippur, Rosh Hashanah and Passover with Chuck and Del. I would tag along - sometimes reluctantly - to services with them. The holiday I cherished most and the one that will always hold a special place in my heart - one that will never be the same - is Yom Kippur. I'm sure you'r wondering why? Well, Chuck and I had a ritual - it went a little bit like this. We would go to services (which he would undoubtedly sleep though), drive back to the Hancock, Drop off Del and begin our annual journey around Chicago for all of the break the fast fixings. We had three stops to make, The Bagel Shop in Lincolnwood, the Fish Market in Chicago and Costco. Without fail, we would eat at every stop. The bagel shop was a hot bagel, the fish marlet was a half pound of fried shrimp each and Costco was the infamous $1.50 hot dog and pop. Yes, we were bad Jews - the guilt was killing us.

Costco was Mecca for Chuck. He would do anything for a bargain - the highlight of his week was the $1.50 Polish and Coke. He would put so much onion on that Polish, I think he got far more than his $1.50 worth.

I could literally go on telling stories like this all night. The few things I want to drive home about Chuck are his amazing and boundless generosity, his ability to make friends with everyone and his undying love for Chicago - which on many occasions he called the greatest city in the world. He should know, he's been around the world at least a dozen times.

As promised I thought I would list a few phrases which I've come to call "Chuckisms". These are things that he would say - without fail - the first time you met him:

"Hi, I'm Charlie on a good day."

"What do you do? What can you get me wholesale?"

On your way out the door he would say: "Do good work, I need the money."

"In 100 years it isn't going to make a bit of difference."

Answering the phone: "It's your nickle!!" or "Hellooooooooooooo!!"

After you were stuffed with food from dinner at his apartment: "More in Kitchen!" and "It costs the same no matter how much you eat."